pastures new.

Photo: my own

My life as a travelling gypsy comes to a welcomed stop tomorrow. Can I get a rapturous woop woop? After months of yo-yo-ing, to and from London for fashion-y related happenings, I am finally turning over that shiny new leaf. How, you ask:

IMMA MOVE TO LONDON AND LIVE THE FASHION JOURNO DREAM.

The first part is certain. The latter, well let's just say it ain't as easy as that. I have no set plan bar whispers of that and promises of this but I leave with the intention of putting my finger in every sweet-tasting pie.

My fan girl obsession for the capital will likely to develop into an unadulterated passion for the place. I can hear screams of anguish echoing from and throughout my various friendship groups. I promise not to subscribe to selling out.

I hope to bring you few horror stories of the fashion intern curse and an abundance of free bar, fashion frolics.

I just gotta get through moving from one end of the country to the other via a three hour, probably packed train with my worldly goods, namely, my wardrobe, squeezed into a mini suitcase.

Here's to starts fresh. Wish me luck.

Twitter will the best place to have a nosy.

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